


Pencil Pusher Blues

by the49thname



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Laven Week, Laven Week 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 17:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the49thname/pseuds/the49thname
Summary: It was a feeling of being alive, of feeling something - anything - other than pain or despair after endless days of it. And it was worth the painful acceptance of change if it meant both of them had something to hang onto through such times of doubt. Entry for Laven Week 2017.





	Pencil Pusher Blues

**Author's Note:**

> A not-so-short oneshot for Laven Week and Lavi's birthday!! The new fan book states Lavi loves dancing so I absolutely had to write a sappy dancing fic in celebration. This ended up so long that I didn't make it a chapter for Two Sides of the Same Coin, but if you want to read my other Laven Week entries you can find them under that work!! As always let me know what you think and enjoy reading!!
> 
> Song the fic was written to: Desire by Everything Everything  
> Warnings: none

Lavi loved _everything_ about parties.

The music, building and changing itself from note to note with energy one minute and softness the next; the atmosphere rising to an excitement so palpable that it was like being intoxicated, heart jack-hammering, head up in the clouds, then falling to a gentle slowness that bordered on feeling transcendental; and then the _dancing_ , the movement of people to the rhythm conducted by instrument and voice and the beat beat beat of feet against polished floors. Free food and drink was an obvious benefit to such events, but it fell by the wayside compared to the nameless feeling that stirred in Lavi’s heart as he stood and watched as everyone and everything around him practically _radiated_ vibrancy.

Well, he loved _nearly_ everything. Being surrounded by people, unable to stop recording every single little detail about them until the pressure behind his temples was unbearable, the indescribable and unsettling feeling that he did not belong there, that he was not _one of them_ ; it was still a difficult medicine to swallow despite the joy these events also brought him.

It had been required of him to attend various events such as these as part of his duties as a Bookman’s apprentice. Mingling among the higher echelon of society, watching how they moved, the subtle gestures between rivalling business associates, the soft whispers behind satin gloves of forbidden lovers and betrayal, the unrest and tension during political dispute - there was always something to learn, always something to pay attention to. There was never enough time to simple _be_ , to stand and blend into the crowd and no longer be himself, to simply be another person among many. It was easy to lie and hide behind a smile, cheerful mask forever in place to garner whatever was necessary from the right people, but it was even easier for Lavi to lose himself to whatever was in front of him, to hold no connection to anything or anyone.

Many times Bookman lost sight of his apprentice and found him hours later, talking in fluent Aramaic to an astounded group of rather drunk duchesses who understood nothing beyond the way Lavi’s voice wrapped itself around the words he spoke. Many times Bookman found his apprentice guessing the contents of people’s purses and how they’d gotten the strange moon-shaped scar on their ankle and whether their partners really loved them, earning drink after drink until he could barely walk. And many times Bookman would reprimand and scold and hope his message sunk in, that Lavi could never be one of them, that he shouldn’t _want_ to be one of them. They were the same people that pillaged and burned and took lives with callous disregard; no-one was what they seemed, and he should know that better than most. And every time Lavi nodded and said he understood, and felt a steadily growing guilt that he couldn’t help it.

He had lost parts of himself over the years, stood on silent bloodied battlefields, counting corpses as if he was counting fence posts as he walked. Fake smiles, fake laughter; everything was a performance, even when he was alone. What use was there in continuing the act when there was no-one to act for? Because it was no longer an act and it _scared him_. He began clinging to whatever helped him feel alive again, whatever made his heart beat so he could notice, whatever stirred genuine emotion within himself. He felt an intense need to prove he was real wherever there was good in the world, and the intense need to separate himself from reality as much as possible where there was bad, unable to handle the raw brutality that the human race was capable of.

But no matter how many awful things he saw, no matter how many times he repeated the words _I’m not human_ like a mantra, refusing to associate himself with the violence and death he was forced to record with perfect recollection, he could not help but feel the need to belong among the human beings he recorded.

Joining the Black Order was the point of no return, taking everything he had run from and denied and ignored and forced it out into the open. He finally had a place to call home, people he could call family, a place to return to that held some level of permanence to it. Years beforehand he would never have wanted this, to belong anywhere, full of too much bitterness to associate with anyone too closely. But Lavi had _changed_ , whether he wanted to believe it or not, and after the involvement of a candy-cane Noah, after having to face his fears, he could no longer run from any of it any longer.

With Allen’s tattered playing card in his shirt pocket, with Doug’s ribbon tied around his wrist, Lavi was too lost in the wilderness to return to the path he had always walked, the life he had led for so long that he knew of nothing else.

* * *

“Are you ready yet?”

Impatience and frustration was evident in Bookman’s voice as he stood and waited outside a closed door, tapping his foot with a steadily deepening frown on his face. He rapped on the door with his knuckles, wishing he could sit and smoke instead of waiting for his troublesome apprentice to stop _preening_.

“Yeah, yeah, gimme a second and keep your hair on, old man.”

Lavi’s voice was muffled by the wood of the door, making him sound further away than he was, and before Bookman could give an irritated response Lavi opened the door and smirked when he nearly smacked his master in the face with it. He quickly avoided the kick Bookman aimed for his stomach, brushing his jacket down with a mock expression of distaste.

“Now, now, Gramps, wouldn’t wanna ruin this nice new suit of mine, would ya?”

Bookman tutted, shaking his head a little. “There is no need to have dressed up so much. It is a small celebratory event for our new additions, nothing more.”

Lavi squinted down at him, adjusting his bow tie with a huff. “Man, you’re such a buzzkill. Don’t wanna put our new cannon fodder off, do we?”

The bitterness in Lavi’s words was clear; the Order were losing the war, death count rising with each passing day. Bookman looked up at him for a moment, seeing the lingering remains of emotion in Lavi’s expression - fear, relief, _shame_ \- and gave a quiet sigh. He shut the door behind Lavi and made his way down the hall, itching for a cigarette. Lavi followed behind, knowing the look on Bookman’s face well enough to know the old man wished to give him a lecture of some kind, no doubt about how he should be handling himself better. He had received a severe scolding for how he had handled the events upon Noah’s Ark, and it had been hard to earn back Bookman’s favour. A flash of memory passed before Lavi’s vision unbidden - water rippling around his thighs, a gentle smile, ink dripping down card and blood on his hands - and he winced, inwardly forcing away any recollection of _that time_.

An awkward silence descended upon master and apprentice, one not wishing to remind the other of pain, the other not wishing to be a disappointment. As they reached the end of the hall, the sound of voices and music and merriment getting all the louder, Bookman turned to his apprentice and gave him a half-hearted shove towards the main hall.

“If I find you damaging my reputation by embarrassing yourself, brat, I’ll make you write all my records for a week.”

Lavi laughed, turning and giving a mock salute as he kept walking. “Whatever you say, Gramps.” He paused, hand falling as a soft smile worked its way onto his features. “Thanks.”

Bookman faltered for a moment before huffing, turning and muttering about being too old for such things, trying and failing to avoid smoking a cigarette in the suit he’d been forced into by his apprentice hours earlier as he headed towards a quieter spot. Lavi watched his retreating back, smile slowly falling, before rubbing the back of his neck and taking the step or two towards the heavy doors of the main hall. As soon as he pushed them open he was immediately enveloped by noise - the clink of glass and ceramic, voices rising and falling with music as their backdrop, feet scuffing against polished floorboards and the creak of wheels as food was brought in on giant tables from the kitchens and it was _too much_. Overwhelmed, Lavi stood and swayed a little, blinking repeatedly to try and filter through the immense amount of information working its way into his addled mind. He almost didn’t notice the hand on his shoulder, the curious look being thrown his way, the smell of food.

“Hey, Earth to Lavi. You’re blocking the door.”

Allen was stood, smiling up at him with a raised eyebrow, chicken drumstick in hand and several more on a plate balanced precariously upon Timcanpy’s head, who was hovering very carefully just above Allen’s shoulder. Lavi immediately smiled, waving a hand in front of him a little, a cheery lilt to his voice.

“Almost didn’t notice ya there, beansprout. I swear you’re shrinking.”

The sudden knee to his stomach was to be expected, but it still caught Lavi by surprise a little. As he winced and bent over, hand over his stomach, Allen scowled and spoke with a mouthful of chicken.

“The name is Allen.” He swallowed before continuing, irritation evident in his tone. “How many times have I told you already?”

“104 times and counting, so far.”

The immediate nature of Lavi’s response and the mechanical tone to his voice made Allen falter a little, but he swiftly brushed it aside with a shake of his head and a distasteful noise. He backed away a little to give Lavi some space to enter the room proper, suddenly aware of how close they’d gotten. He began to speak before he cut himself short, looking Lavi up and down with a glance that made Lavi’s stomach twist in a way he was sure bodily organs should not be able to achieve.

“You look very…” Allen coughed into a gloved hand, the slightest hint of embarrassment showing in his expression. “Presentable. Very, uh, presentable.”

Lavi raised an eyebrow, feeling incredibly self-conscious and slightly embarrassed himself. He tugged his jacket down a little, tidying up his shirt cuffs, stumbling over his words.

“H-hey, don’t say that like I never look presentable.” He paused, slight panic showing in his expression. “Wait, I do look okay normally, right?”

Allen couldn’t help but laugh, nearly knocking over the plate Timcanpy was struggling to keep balanced. He shook his head, putting a hand on Lavi’s back and pushing him into the room, giving him a sideward glance that radiated amusement.

“Well, let me put it this way. I’ve never seen you wear a suit, or anything other than those ridiculous white trousers you always wear.”

Lavi huffed, affronted. “One, they’re pants not trousers. Two, they’re nice pants. Three, suits are uncomfortable.”

Now it was Allen’s turn to look as if he’d been insulted. “Excuse me? For one we’re in England now and you will say trousers like the rest of us. And suits are very comfortable, I’ll have you know. You just need to find the right one for you.”

Lavi snorted. “You sound like you’re givin’ me romantic advice.” He put on a higher-pitched voice, pulling a face as he spoke. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea, you just have to find the _one_!”

Allen couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he reached for the plate balanced on Timcanpy’s head, laughing at the almost human-like sigh of relief that the golem gave in response. Lavi smiled as Timcanpy briefly nudged itself into his cheek before flying away - finding the nearest food it could steal undoubtedly - and took a moment to appreciate his surroundings.

Komui was stood near the door to the kitchens, trying his best to look as if he wasn’t eagerly trying to avoid managing the mess of people in front of him in favour of taste-testing Jerry’s desserts. Reever stood close at hand, watching him with an irritated expression. At a nearby table Marie and Miranda were sat, glasses in hand, which they had to keep repeatedly raising above their head whenever Timothy skidded his way past them, rollerblades leaving dark marks against the floor, chased by a rather flustered Emilia begging him to slow down before he caused himself injury.

At a nearby table, Krory was having a very in-depth discussion about parfaits with Link, who for once did not look as uncomfortable in a social situation as he usually would. Krory’s expression steadily fell into one of confusion as Link started using German words for cooking terms, who became steadily more frustrated that he didn’t know the English equivalent. Miranda quietly interjected with translations, initially ignored until Marie spoke up and interrupted loudly enough for Miranda to be heard. Lvellie stood a few metres away, pretending to be doing anything but listening in on Link’s conversation, with Brigitte stood by his side, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Across the room, Johnny stood with other members of the Science Department, fiddling with the fuse boxes that powered the many lights pinned to the main hall’s ceiling, grumbling about Komui’s hand in the confusing technology refusing to work properly. Close by to them, Lenalee was trying and failing to drag Kanda away from a dark corner, becoming more and more impatient with every person who asked for her hand in a dance, eventually gritting her teeth and practically throwing Kanda into the fray of people dancing in the middle of the hall.

Compared to the solemn atmosphere after the events of the past few months - escaping Noah’s Ark, fighting off Akuma at the old headquarters, nearly dying to a horde of near-zombified Order members, endless exhausting missions with little success to show for it - it was indescribable how it felt, to see everyone be so light-hearted and without worry. Lavi turned and saw Allen had left his side to raid another food table, arguing with a rather drunk Klaud who insisted the last slice of apple pie was hers to claim, and felt a warm smile work its way onto his features. Yet again the memory of dappled waters and ink trailing down Allen’s outstretched hand - no, not Allen, it wasn’t _real_ \- crossed Lavi’s mind, and it made the smile fall from his features a little.

The small playing card tucked into his usual shirt, cast aside in his bedroom, entered his thoughts and was quickly swept away; Lavi _refused_ to think about what had happened in Edo, on the Ark, wanting to do nothing more than revel for a few hours and lose himself enough to forget. When a gentle hand on his back drew his attention, he couldn’t help but give a relieved smile when he saw Lenalee stood behind him.

“Hey there Lena, enjoying the night so far?” Lavi raised an eyebrow and pretended to lose his footing a little, raising a hand to obscure his vision. “You’re too beautiful to even look at; words do no justice in describing it.”

Lenalee laughed, digging an elbow into Lavi’s ribs with a playful expression. “Stop it, you. And yes, it’s been good so far.” She paused for a moment, lips pulled up into a soft smile. “It’s nice to see everyone like this.”

Lavi gave a hum of acknowledgement, a wordless understanding passing between the two of them; the memory of the Order’s near-destruction was still raw in both their minds, even if months had passed since then. After nearly crashing into Timothy, Lavi reached for a nearby plate of pastries and claimed it, suddenly aware of his grumbling stomach. He stuck out his tongue as Lenalee stole a small pie from his plate, shaking his head with a smile as he watched her stuff the food in her mouth and turn to find Kanda and drag him away from yet another corner.

For a moment he stood and did nothing more than quietly eat, observing the people dancing and talking and eating and doing their best to feel alive after so much pain and toil. There was a feeling of desperation amongst the merriment, a strong need to make up for weeks of suffering, and it left Lavi feeling more sombre than he wanted to be. After getting through one more plate of sausage rolls, he decided to find out where Allen had run off to, and debated whether Komui would kill him if he tried to dance with Lenalee at any point during the night. After spending a few minutes distracted by the small fire that Johnny had inadvertently caused, briefly cutting out some of the lights, Lavi realised that Allen was no longer in the main hall at all.

Deciding that asking Link about Allen’s whereabouts would do no good at all - despite the inspector seemingly softening up over time, it was clear Allen still resented being hounded day-in, day-out - Lavi checked the kitchens first, quickly exiting when he saw Allen wasn’t there and that Komui was making some sort of cake monstrosity while Jerry was distracted. After stealing a glass of wine and downing it along the way, Lavi left the confines of the main hall and immediately groaned as the headache he hadn’t realised he’d been developing became evident. Rubbing at his temples, Lavi made his way through the quiet and darkened halls of the Order, wondering why he was trying to find Allen in the first place.

Initially, he told himself it was because Allen was the last person he should keep out of sight; he still had a duty to record what happened to him. This pained him, and Lavi quickly shoved that particular thought out of his mind, insistent on another reason. He then turned to the simple fact that of all people, Allen deserved a light-hearted party filled with food and merriment. But, then again, Allen had been keeping to himself as of late, for reasons Lavi was painfully aware of. The conversation Cross and Allen had shared and the disappearance of Cross soon after had left Allen in a state that he was trying very unsuccessfully to hide. His recent mission in Paris had left him injured and burdened with something he refused to share, which frustrated Lavi even more. Every time Allen faked a smile or a laugh, every time he made a pathetic excuse so he could hide away by himself somewhere, Lavi felt guilt. He had borne witness to the conversation that still haunted Allen’s every step, he knew _exactly_ why Allen was torturing himself with isolation, and he knew that of all people he could not intervene.

As Lavi made his way into the darkened cavern where the Ark gates were usually formed, shielding his eye from the bright light of a nearby gate, he knew he had already intervened the moment he picked up the playing card left in the wake of Allen’s near-death all those months ago.

* * *

The sudden warmth of perpetual summer sunshine within the Ark was disorientating after wandering the cold and darkened halls of the Order.

It took Lavi a moment to adjust himself as he stood among white-painted buildings, the nearby cry of seabirds bringing to mind too many memories to bear handling the weight of. Shaking his head, Lavi made his way along cobbled streets, knowing exactly where Allen would be hiding. He did not fear getting lost, knowing the way through the Ark as well as the Noah themselves, memory etched into his mind with no way of removing it. It was too quiet for it to be peaceful, a silence that weighed heavily upon your shoulders, and it did nothing to ease the tension that was steadily arising within Lavi’s heart.

The sight of a nearby building, nestled between two olive trees opposite an empty courtyard of stone, brought Lavi out of his thoughts. The sudden contrast as Lavi stepped inside, enveloped by cooler temperatures and comforting shade, left him blinking in the semi-darkness, struggling to orientate himself. The soft sound of piano keys, a quiet voice breaking the silence, brought Lavi back to reality, and with steady footsteps he made his way deeper inside and stopped just short of a door, slightly ajar.

Allen sat with his back to Lavi, gloved fingers pressing against ivory keys, singing with a soft lilting voice as Timcanpy nestled itself into his hair. Lavi felt ashamed, almost, of standing and watching as Allen gave a performance to an empty room. But it stirred an emotion so powerful in him that it was nearly impossible to do anything beyond holding his breath and staring, hand gently pressed against the wood of the door. Lavi leant forward, lost in the sound of Allen’s voice and the mournful notes of the piano he played, and immediately fell face forward into the room as he pressed too much weight against the door.

Silence, and an unbearable tension, immediately arose and settled itself upon Lavi and Allen’s shoulders as Lavi pushed himself up, trying to look at anything other than Allen’s shocked expression. When the silence continued to stretch itself between them, Lavi rubbed the back of his neck, trying his best to look apologetic.

“Sorry for… interrupting. I was just wonderin’ where you -”

“You should go back to the party.”

Allen’s tone left little room for argument, a firmness to his voice that Lavi had never heard him use before. At any point before now, Lavi would have shrugged and left, returning to music and cheer and ignoring any thoughts of Allen’s misery with drink and a comfortable bed. But the look in Allen’s eyes, the way his hands shook against piano keys, bid Lavi to take one step forward, then two. Allen looked over at him with a pained expression, giving a heavy sigh as Lavi settled himself beside him on the seat in front of the piano.

For a moment they sat in silence, tension steadily building, until Lavi pressed a finger against one of the keys. A low, deep note reverberated through the piano’s core, breaking the silence. With a soft smile, Lavi began to play a tune he’d never learned the name of, knowing it by memory alone. He knew how to play well enough to sound okay to most people’s ears, though he’d been told his playing lacked emotion, and it eased away most of the tension that his sudden intrusion had created. When he finished playing, Allen said nothing for a while before speaking with a quiet, sombre tone to his voice.

“I didn’t know you could play.”

Lavi shrugged, pressing a few keys half-heartedly. “I don’t really play, it’s just somethin’ I picked up over the years.” He gave Allen a slight nudge with his arm, a playful lilt to his voice. “C’mon, gimme a request, I’ll play anythin’ you like.”

Allen couldn’t help but smile, though it was a pitiful attempt at a smile regardless, and took a moment to think before giving a quiet laugh.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

Lavi laughed, giving Allen an inquisitive look. “Okay, but why that one?”

Allen shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just the first thing that came to mind.”

Lavi looked over at him for a moment before shaking his head and playing the simple melody for the children’s nursery rhyme, humming the tune under his breath. Only a few bars in, Lavi stopped playing and lightly nudged Allen with a frustrated whine.

“Hey c’mon, you can’t ask me to play that and not even sing. That’s rude.”

Allen stiffened, cheeks colouring. “I, ah, well I don’t sing that well and -”

“Bullshit, I heard you singin’ all angelic-like before I made my dashing entrance.”

It took Lavi a moment to register his words, and felt his cheeks burn as Allen laughed.

“Angelic? My, my, that’s some compliment.” Allen paused before leaning in closer to Lavi, squinting. “Are you trying to get something out of me, Lavi?”

“What?” Lavi stumbled over his words, pressing the keys beneath his fingers with more force than was necessary. “Of course not, I just… uh, meant what I said. You’ve got a… nice voice… y-ya know?”

Allen paused, raising his eyebrows before a bright smile slowly worked its way onto his features. Lavi scarcely realised he’d stopped playing, lost in the genuine emotion showing in Allen’s expression. The silence that enveloped them wasn’t uncomfortable this time, and as Allen played a slightly off-key version of one of the songs that had played in the main hall earlier, Lavi leant his head against Allen’s shoulder. Allen looked down at him, lips pulled into a soft smile.

“I can’t play that well with you resting on me like that.”

There was little irritation to add any weight to Allen’s words, and Lavi did nothing but grin and place his weight on Allen even more.

“Too bad.”

Allen huffed but did nothing, giving up on finishing playing the song when he realised he didn’t remember how it ended. After a moment of silence he pressed his fingers against the keys once more, and the melody Lavi had heard when he entered the building began to fill the room with a soft mournful tone. Tim moved so it was sat atop the piano, opening its mouth and emitting a holographic score above its head. Lavi had never seen a score presented in such a way; a row of symbols in a circular pattern. He wanted to ask, but the way Allen had stiffened up beside him made it clear that bothering him about it would do nothing more than return the awful look in Allen’s eyes from earlier.

When Allen started to sing, voice low and sombre, Lavi hardly dared to breathe. The score in front of the two of them seemed to respond, symbols changing colour as the circular pattern rotated. It felt like a dream, almost, as Lavi sat there and listened to Allen play. The performance Allen had given before Lavi had revealed himself had been to an empty room, a visceral feeling of loneliness evident while he played. Now there was no feeling of loneliness, just a feeling of uncertainty, and when Allen stopped playing with a sigh, Lavi wondered how many times Allen had played to an empty room, suffering alone, refusing to share his burdens with anyone.

“I don’t know why…”

Lavi tilted his head, looking up at Allen’s conflicted expression. Despite the urge to probe further, he simply sat and waited, watching as a bitter smile worked its way onto Allen’s features.

“I keep feeling the need to play it, the melody that… comes from the Fourteenth.” Allen was silent for a moment before he gave a quiet laugh that held no humour, closing his eyes with a pained smile. “I hear it in my dreams, always calling me back here. I don’t know why.”

There was so much desperation in Allen’s voice and it was painful to hear. Lavi felt the sudden urge to interlace his fingers with Allen’s, still resting upon ivory keys, but hesitated, afraid of the feeling welling up inside of him. He settled for silence, knowing that nothing he could say would be of any comfort.

After a few moments of silence, Allen sighed and half-heartedly pressed a few keys, frustration showing in his face. Lavi looked up at him and hesitated for a moment before slightly nudging Allen’s shoulder with his head, hoping that giving Allen an alternative to sitting and reminding himself of such painful things would be of some comfort.

“Hey, let’s go back to the party.” When Allen didn’t reply, Lavi nudged him again with a frustrated whine. “C’mon, I’m sure we can go raid the kitchens and make a sandwich of epic proportions. Maybe we can rope Lena and Yuu into something fun too.”

Allen gave a bitter smile. “If you want to go back, you don’t have to stay here.”

“And leave you here all alone to be all mopey and sad? Nah, I’ll keep ya company.” Lavi gave a quiet sigh, slumping against Allen a little. “Though gonna be honest, I am kinda sad I didn’t get to dance earlier.”

Allen paused before looking down at Lavi with a curious glance.

“I wouldn’t take you as someone who would enjoy dancing.” Allen faltered before pulling a face. “Wait yes, yes I can.”

Lavi laughed. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“Whichever way you wish to see it.”

“Sure, sure, just a neat excuse to pretend you weren’t implyin’ I’d be a bad dancer.”

Allen huffed, elbowing Lavi in the side a little. “I wasn’t implying anything. But, now that you mention it…”

After a moment of silence, Allen suddenly moved from his spot, grinning as Lavi suddenly fell sideways and landed with a quiet _oof_ against the piano seat, and extended a hand towards him. When Lavi pushed himself up and met his gaze with a confused expression, Allen shook his head and pulled Lavi off the seat and almost fell over as Lavi teetered and nearly collapsed on top of him.

When Allen took one of Lavi’s hands in his own, taking his other hand to rest on his waist, Lavi immediately understood.

“Oh.”

Allen couldn’t help but laugh, taking a step backward then forward, raising an eyebrow as Lavi nearly tripped over his own feet.

“You’re living up to my expectations so far.”

Lavi took a moment to push past the immediate embarrassment and the sudden emotion making his heart jack-hammer against his rib cage, and gave a huff as he settled into the rhythm Allen was setting, refusing to let his reputation be sullied.

“Well time to prove ya wrong. I’ll have you know -” Lavi extended his arm, leading Allen into doing a theatrical twirl, trying hard not to grin. “I’m a great dancer.”

Allen shook his head with a smile, stepping closer to Lavi and leading him into a very graceful dip towards the ground, hands comfortably placed on Lavi’s waist, leaning in close.

“And I’ll have _you_ know I’m also not that bad myself.”

Lavi immediately lost all ability to concentrate, unable to do anything but stare up at Allen and feel breaths ghosting against his lips, thinking that it had suddenly become far too hot in this room, far too quickly. Allen pulled him back up, resting his head against Lavi’s shoulder as they gently swayed where they stood, both aware of how the other’s heart was beating fast enough for it to be noticeable.

Lavi faltered, feeling the sudden need to push Allen away and leave, the learned response of rejecting intimacy so prevalent in his mind that it was hard to ignore it. But the memory of Allen lying in bloodied waters, the dim sensation of a head pressed against his shoulder, desperate words that he couldn’t make out, and the _awful_ look in Allen’s eyes that spoke of despair and suffering alone in quiet rooms with no-one to comfort him, bid Lavi to wrap his arms around Allen’s middle, burying his head in white locks with a sigh.

It was a comforting silence, the one that settled itself upon their shoulders, and though there was no music to dance to, no rhythm to follow, the same vibrant feeling of being alive that Lavi craved so painfully was still present, settling itself into his heart as if it had always meant to be there.

It took a long time for Allen to pull away, and as he lifted his head, meeting Lavi’s gaze, he did nothing but stand and stare up at him, unable to say the words that needed to be said. Lavi faltered before raising a hand to tentatively tuck a strand of hair behind Allen’s ear, cupping his face and rubbing a thumb against his cheek, trying to express without words what he had always wanted to say. After the brief look of shock faded from Allen’s expression, he gave a gentle smile and settled into the gesture, closing his eyes with a quiet hum.

Everything Lavi had been trying so hard to deny was out in the open now, and Allen’s immediate acceptance of it left Lavi feeling both indescribably happy and painfully guilty. His duty to Bookman and their Clan required distance, apathy, a heartlessness that he had tried all his life to achieve. Everything he felt for the boy in his arms was the complete opposite of what was required of him. And once upon a time, he had been _so close_ to becoming the perfect model of what was asked of him. But he had changed, whether he wanted to accept it or not, and he could not deny the feelings in his heart any longer.

Lavi rested his forehead against Allen’s forehead with a sigh, raising his free hand to cup Allen’s other cheek. He didn’t pull away when Allen raised his hands to cup his face. He didn’t pull away when Allen leant forward and pressed his lips against Lavi’s own, unable to do anything but close his eye and lose himself in the intensity of it all.

It was wishful thinking to even consider such a thing working out between them, that this sudden change between them would give more happiness than regret. But when Allen pulled away to look up at Lavi with a gentle expression, emotion showing so strongly in his eyes that it was breath-taking, Lavi knew he would do anything to keep seeing the hope he admired so dearly in Allen’s eyes.

It was a feeling of being alive, of feeling something - _anything_ \- other than pain or despair after endless days of it. And it was worth the painful acceptance of change if it meant both of them had something to hang onto through such times of doubt.


End file.
